Trysts
by Iellix
Summary: This is a series of M-rated one-shots taking place within the 'Triptych' AU universe and featuring two Connors and one very lucky Abby. These stories may include any or all of the following: slash, threesome, and non-vanilla sex.
1. Trysts

This fic takes place in the 'Triptych' universe, an AU story in which Connor and Abby are in a polyamorous relationship with another Connor from an alternate timeline. In Evenstar Estel's fic 'Frozen', which also takes place in this same AU, an 'incident' in Lester's office between the two Connors was referenced. I decided it would be the perfect opportunity to write a little smut. This fic takes place between the ending and epilogue of the fic 'Triptych', some time after the alternate Connor decided to stay with them. They're getting a little frisky together at work, the Connors!

**Warning:** Extremely mature content! Lemon! Slash! Technically it's autoeroticism, considering Connor is having sex with another version of himself.

Disclaimer: I do not own Connor or Abby, or Primeval, or any of the established characters that you recognize. Eye Patch!Connor belongs to Evenstar Estel, who invented him for her fic 'Cloudy With a Chance of Connors'. You don't have to read that fic to understand this fic, but I would recommend reading 'Triptych'.

o…o

It was late, after a very long day. Everyone else had gone home for the night and the only people who remained were the two Connors and Abby, and the small handful of soldiers who worked the graveyard shift in the empty Arc. Connor was supposed to perform some routine updates on some of the Arc's systems, which was supposed to be a quick thing. That was four hours ago. He was encountering problems left, right, and sideways, and he'd enlisted the aid of Eye Patch Connor, whose skills with computers were rusty but still very useful.

"You've got no reason to hang around here all night," the older Connor told Abby. He needed to stretch his legs and get another cup of coffee. That computer chair was damn uncomfortable and his back was in knots. "You should go home and get a good night's sleep, and take my ol' bitch with you. We can get a cab or something when we're done here."

"What, and go home all by myself and go to bed alone?" She teased, putting on another pot of coffee in the staff lounge. She stood on her toes and nuzzled his neck. "Fat chance. I'd rather be here with you guys."

"Can't be any fun for you," he said, groaning as he cracked his back.

"Sure it is. You're in some very tight jeans and bending over that computer desk a lot. It's a nice view."

He laughed softly and kissed the top of her head. "As long as you're sure."

"Look, if I weren't here, you two would stay here all night and we'd find you in the morning asleep at your desk, face-down in your own drool. Someone's gotta keep the two of you from working too hard. And anyway, if I get _really_ bored, I can distract you from overworking by taking my top off."

"I like that idea," he purred in her ear, reaching around to grab her backside and rolling his hips into hers.

"Finish what you need to finish first," she told him, kissing him. "We'll have fun when we get home. It's a Friday night, we don't have to be in tomorrow unless there's an emergency."

"Hm, I like _this_ idea even more."

He took Connor's tea and his own coffee back to the computers and Abby went to take Eva for a walk. Connor was on his mobile when he got there, having a rather one-sided argument with Lester.

"Look, Les—Lester—I know you're annoyed. It's not a walk in the park for either of us, you know! I just need—I need—Lester, I just need a file!"

Eye Patch sighed. They'd figured out they were going to need information from some files, but they were in Lester's locked office. They could finish the work tonight if they had what they needed, so Connor called Lester at home in hopes of getting the code to get into his office. It sounded like he was in a significantly less than receptive mood, because of being interrupted at home by one of his least-favourite people in the world.

Connor winced and held the phone away from his ear; Lester could be heard ranting from the other end.

"I don't appreciate that kind of language when I'm putting in overtime."

"_And _I'm_ not appreciating being bothered at home! Why didn't you do this during your regular hours? If you're spending your working day in a threesome, I'm going to be extremely angry with you."_

"I didn't know I needed the file until me an' Conn—Drake—figured it out. It's just one file, we'll change the passcode to your office door and you can change it to something only you'll know on Monday, okay? It's not that hard—"

The other Connor reached over his shoulder and took his phone, intent on threatening Lester into complying with their needs.

"Look, Lester, if you really _want_ the week to start off with us having to make all the updates and adjustments first thing on Monday morning because we couldn't finish it tonight, then by all means that's your call."

Lester sounded uncommonly bored as he groused, _"Oh, god, who am I talking to? It's too hard to tell the two of you apart. Are you Laverne or Shirley?"_

He knew that that was meant to get a rise out of him, but it wasn't going to work; insults like that worked on the younger Connor, but not on him. He had far too many hashmarks in his life to let anything less than a nuclear holocaust bother him. "It's Shirley," he said flatly. "Now are you gonna tell me and Laverne how to get into your office or are you going to have the week start off on the wrong note?"

Connor snorted into his mug and dribbled tea down his front; Eye Patch smirked.

There was a few more minutes of arguing between the Connors and Lester. The grouch grumbled and harrumphed but eventually relented—he probably knew it was the best choice all along, but James Lester wasn't one to agree with Connor Temple, _either_ of them. He disagreed with both of them frequently, purely on principle.

They got the code and entered Lester's office. It was immaculate, as usual. The place felt strangely forbidden as they walked in and flicked on the lights—Lester's little corner of the Arc was absolutely, strictly, and unequivocally _off-limits_ to anyone who wasn't James Lester or Eva, on whom he secretly doted. It was one of the only areas of the Arc that Connor didn't have, and couldn't _get,_ access to. No one liked going in there, anyway. Everyone liked to avoid Lester and Lester liked to avoid everyone else, like a king who didn't want to soil his hands dealing with the filthy underclass. Being summoned to this office felt weirdly like being a kid summoned to the Headmaster's office. It wouldn't have surprised anyone who worked there if he had a cane behind that desk.

"Christ," Eye Patch said with a grimace and a shudder upon entering the office. He ran his hand over the desk, leaving a faint streaking over the otherwise spotless glass top. "This place is so clean it makes me feel... _filthy."_

Connor laughed quietly, looking around. Everything was so anal-retentively perfect and organized that he positively _ached_ to mess it up a bit, just to piss him off. Even the computer keyboard and mousepad, and the pens on the desk were aligned exactly parallel to each other. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere. He probably forbade it from entering his office and it freaking _listened._ Lester could order _dust_ around. A thousand years ago, he'd've been burnt at the stake as a witch, Connor thought.

He made his way over to the file cabinets. There were two of them and Lester wasn't nice enough to tell him where the desired information was being kept. "You wanna start on that one and I'll start at this one?"

"Hm, I dunno, I bet he's got the really sensitive stuff hidden in some compartment under his desk."

"What makes you think that?"

"Don't be daft, love," Eye Patch said, flicking his ear in affectionate animosity. "We watch all the same spy films, yeah?"

"Films aren't real life."

"That's what they said about 'Jurassic Park', and look at what we're doing for a living."

"Oh, god, we're not gonna start on 'Jurassic Park' again, are we? We'll be here arguing until one of us is dead!"

As alike as the pair of them were, and as head-over-heels in love with each other they were, the two Connors could sometimes butt heads over the most ridiculous things. They could argue for hours about comic universes and science fiction. Once they'd argued so vehemently that they didn't even notice Abby had stripped naked in an attempt to shut them up until several hours later, when they gave up and went to bed and found her clothes in a pile on the floor near them.

"Let's not, I _would_ like to get home this weekend," Eye Patch said. He leaned in and kissed the ear he'd just flicked, then rested his lips on his temple, flattening a hand on his lower back and rubbing gently.

His counterpart was very tactile, Connor had noticed early on in their relationship. Moreso than he'd ever remembered being himself, but then their lives and experiences had skewed many years before he came through his anomaly and into this world. Living so very long without any affection of any kind, no loving human touch, had changed him—and now that he _did_ have that human connection again, people to love and who loved him in return, it was almost as if he felt he had to keep physical contact with them as much as he could to assure himself that it was still real and not some cruel hallucination or dream.

Either that, or their strange three-person love was still so new and interesting and _shiny_ that it was still novel. Like a honeymoon.

Maybe a bit of both.

Connor turned and gave him a quick little kiss, then nudged him towards Lester's desk. If they got started on something right now, there'd be no turning back, and they had work to do.

"The sooner we get done with this, the sooner we can all go home," he reminded him. "Go on, have a look in the desk. I'll start in the cabinets. If I find anything, I'll let you know."

He nodded and they each got down to their searches.

"Mind you don't find something horrifying, like his porn stash," Connor said, flicking through the folders and papers in one drawer after another.

"Fucking hell, there's a thought I didn't need or _want."_

"You're welcome."

"See, now I'm gonna be stuck wondering what the hell kind of porn stash he'd _have._ And I don't want to think about that."

"Neither do I, but I've just put the idea in my head, haven't I? Well done, me. We may need trauma counselling after this."

The files they were looking for didn't turn up in either file cabinet. Mostly they were expense reports, stories to satisfy the public regarding creature sightings, dossiers, monthly reports, invoices for supplies for the animals pens, and insurance claims for the damage they incurred—or _caused—_in their line of work. The only unusual things Connor found in those cabinets were a list titled 'Things I Would Rather Be Doing Today', a bag of Milk Bones presumably for Eva, and a collection of tiny bottles of gin and vodka, the kind that were served on planes and in hotels.

"I crapped out over here," he said, slamming the last drawer closed with his foot as he stood up. "Anything over there?"

Eye Patch had moved from the desk to the bookshelves, prodding for any secret compartments.

"I don't think—_ah-hah!"_ He reached and grabbed a book from the shelf. When he opened it, it was revealed to be a dummy shell with a stack of papers tucked inside. A quick scan proved it was exactly what they were looking for. "Finally! Thank goodness."

"Well done," Connor congratulated him, standing behind him and hooking his chin over one shoulder and wrapping his arm around the other. "How'd you figure that out?"

The other Connor flipped over the dummy shell to reveal the spine; it read _A Short History of Nearly Everything,_ a title they both knew. "Because why in the world would Lester have a copy of a Bill Bryson book? He's the most humourless prick that ever broke wind."

"Clever," he laughed softly. He hugged him around the shoulders with one arm and kissed his neck. He'd meant it to be a little peck, but he let his mouth linger far longer, unshaved stubble scraping on is lips. He smelled of cigarette smoke, leather, mouthwash, and _Connor._ He sighed a little against his neck and breathed in his warm scent for several moments. He kissed his neck again and the other man purred lazily.

"Feels good," he rasped.

"You taste good." To emphasize this he flicked his tongue out and licked a line up his neck to the little soft spot just under his ear, a spot where he was deliciously sensitive and that worked like an erotic on-switch.

Eye Patch rumbled with a gentle purr, leaning into his lover. He brought a hand up and cupped his dimpled cheek, then turned to kiss him slowly and sweetly. The kiss got deeper and more intense, teasing his lips with his own and running his tongue along the soft pad of his lower lip. Connor moaned into it, slanted his head, and opened his mouth to him. He wrapped one arm around his shoulders and the other around his hips, pulling the older man tight and flush against himself; Eye Patch cupped the back of his head in one gloved hand and slipped his other hand into his back pocket, grabbing his ass and squeezing possessively. Every action said _'mine!'_ loud and clear. He didn't share Connor or Abby with anyone in the world and showed that at every opportunity.

He turned them around and backed Connor against the edge of the desk. Connor knocked down a cup of pens and hopped up to perch at the edge of the desk, leaning back and spreading his legs to let Eye Patch get as close as he could to him. He pulled his hand from his pocket and moved it to the inside of his thigh, kneading through his jeans. It felt good—_really_ good.

Eye Patch braced his hand on the edge of the desk behind him and gave a hard thrust against him. Connor broke off the kiss and groaned loudly.

"Oh—oh _god,_ yes," he panted happily. He grabbed him by the front of his deliciously tight jeans and pulled him towards himself; Eye Patch took the hint and ground against him again, and again, each time harder, with a little grind against his hardening cock that made little stars erupt behind his eyes. He was dizzy and his head spun and he was so turned on he couldn't think.

Their kisses intensified, open-mouthed and wet, with tongues tangling and stubble scraping. Neither of them shaved often if they could get away with it—their cheeks were always dusky and coarse with their unshaved whiskers and they left little red patches and scrapes on one another and on Abby, who made dirty comments a lot about having barber's rash in unlikely places. Privately, Connor always thought it was one of the sexiest things in the world to see pink raw spots on both of his lovers, on their bellies and on the insides of their thighs where his face rubbed against the soft skin as he made them squirm with pleasure.

He whined softly and the other Connor kept going. He could feel the telltale bulge in the man's jeans, his erection digging into his groin and heightening the pleasure. He tore his lips away roughly, sucked his lower lip into his mouth, and mouthed behind his ear. Connor started making embarrassingly needy mewls, rolling his pelvis back against his lover's. He licked his neck, bit his throat, tugged his earlobe with his teeth; he pulled his shirt and waistcoat up and kneaded his waist slowly and luxuriously, sending jolts of electricity and excitement up Connor's spine. It felt so good he'd stopped thinking about the fact that they were still in Lester's office.

Suddenly, almost as suddenly as they started, he jerked in shock and planted his hands on the other man's chest, pushing him backwards.

"Oh my god, we've gotta stop!" He panted. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was slightly damp with sweat. He slid off the edge of the desk and steadied himself on wobbly legs.

"Why?" Eye Patch countered, still nuzzling his neck and massaging his thigh with skilled fingers. He didn't let him stand fully and didn't back up more than six inches.

"Because—just, _because._ Oh my god..." He put his hand on his forehead and rubbed one temple. His hand was trembling slightly.

"Are you all right?" He asked worriedly. He took one glove off and stroked his cheek bare-handed.

"Yeah. Fine. I just... we need to stop."

"You worried we'll get caught?"

"No—yes. No. I... oh my god..."

"What happened?"

Connor's face was _burning_ now, a mix of embarrassment and arousal at once. "I—I just—I just—I can't even say it!"

"What is it?" Eye Patch pressed again, purring and licking around the curve of his ear. Oh, he was good, getting whatever information out of him that he liked just by licking and kissing. Both he and Abby were quite adept at that kind of manipulation.

He felt his face burn and he rested his forehead against his shoulder before quietly answering, "I just came in my pants."

His embarrassment compounded when he felt Eye Patch laugh heartily, smothering the sound in the junction between his neck and shoulder.

"It isn't funny!" He protested, indignant and totally humiliated.

"Why isn't it?"

"I just got off dry-humping you in _Lester's office!"_

"Well, that's understandable. You've got an obscenely hot guy who wants to fuck you into the wall."

He moaned softly at his forwardness and frankness. "I can't believe I got off that quickly."

"I can't believe you creamed your pants."

"What d'you want me to do, drop trou and prove it?"

He sucked gently on his neck. "Mmkay. Do it."

He should have known better than to ask Eye Patch a rhetorical question of a sexual nature. Because he always answered them and then demanded the answers be honoured. It was very hard to refuse him, too. So Connor unbuttoned the top button of his jeans and ran his fingers through the wet mess in his shorts, shuddering slightly. He pulled his hand out, the fingers white and slick with his own cum.

Eye Patch smirked a crooked, sexy, delicious little dimpled smirk and firmly grasped his hand by the wrist. He closed his eyes and pulled his hand towards his mouth, slowly and deliberately sucking and licking his fingers clean, humming happily as he did it. Connor moaned as he did so—it was ridiculously erotic, watching his boyfriend suck the semen off his fingers, his tongue soft and slow. He made a totally undignified noise that turned into a yelp when he slipped his hand into his jeans for more, licking his fingers clean. He was starting to grow hard again, his hips beginning to jerk of their own volition.

"We should—probably—get outta here," he gasped, trying to convince himself to stop and having no luck.

"You should clean up first."

"_Unh—_yeah, I, uh, should. You could—" he gasped a little when Eye Patch tugged his zipper down slowly. "You could get me some tissues or something."

"No fun in that," he declared frankly. He pulled the zipper down and tugged hard on Connor's tight jeans, dragging them down and taking his messed boxer-briefs with them. He licked his lips greedily. "This is much more fun for both of us." To emphasize this point, he pulled him close by his shoulders and kissed him roughly, then sank to his knees before him.

"Oh yes. Oh, god yes—_yes."_ He gripped the edge of the desk behind him and held on for dear life as he felt the other Connor give his semi-hard penis a long lick from the base to the head, licking the cum up and making him grow hard again.

Eye Patch grasped his legs by his thighs, suckling the head of his cock into his mouth. He pushed the foreskin back with his lips and continued to lick up the semen, making him mewl and groan and pump is hips shallowly. He licked, suckled, skimmed the tender skin gently, gently with his teeth; he eagerly swallowed down everything he could reach with his tongue, making Connor moan slowly. He pressed down on his belly to keep him still, forcing him to go at _his_ pace rather than picking his own.

He panted, rolled his hips, babbled incoherently in between gasps and moans.

"So good," he sighed.

Eye Patch pulled off of him with a wet slurp and looked up at him through his shaggy fringe. Even his blind eye glittered mischievously and his lips glistened with saliva and semen. He licked his lips.

"You taste good," he purred.

He whimpered.

He went back down, suckling gently. He eased one hand into his own jeans, cupping the straining bulge in his shorts and trying to get a small measure of relief; the grunt reverberated in his throat and vibrated on the cock in his mouth. Connor gripped a handful of his hair, whining low in his throat.

"More," he begged. "Just a little more."

His lover laughed softly and sat back, letting him slide from his lips. "Eager, aren't you?"

"Horny." He tugged his hair again. "More?"

He leaned in and kissed his thigh warmly before going back to the task at hand.

When he wanted to do so, Connor could last quite a while and hold an orgasm back for some time. His embarrassingly quick orgasm moments ago had taken the edge off and he held off the second for a long time, wanting to feel the other Connor's hand on his belly and his lips around his erection, sucking and slurping and tongue swirling and teeth grazing, for as long as possible. It was different when he did it than when Abby did it; Abby's ultimate goal was to see how fast she could make him completely lose control, how quick she could make him moan and beg and howl with pleasure, whereas Connor's was to stretch his pleasure out as long as possible and keep his mouth on him for as long as he could. Different approaches, but no less enjoyable. But a blowjob was a blowjob, and he loved both Abby and Connor very much.

He felt the familiar feeling curl low in his abdomen, his breath hitch and come erratically. He drew a hard, ragged breath as he came hot and hard into his mouth. It made the blood rush in his ears and his knees buckle. He sucked him dry until there was nothing left of him and he stood there gulping huge breaths of air until his head stopped spinning. Eye Patch pressed a gentle kiss just below his navel, rubbing soft little circles on the little bumps of his hipbones with his thumbs. He stood up and took his face between his hands and kissed him breathless, sending his senses reeling again.

"I love you," he whispered. "God, I love you."

What was left of Connor that wasn't already quite liquid promptly melted. He never figured himself for a smooth, cavalier Han Solo 'I-love-you,-I-know' kind of guy, but neither did he figure himself a total schmaltz-merchant; but something about this man turned him into an absolute sap all over. Even more than Abby did. It was probably the abandoned-puppy quality about him, so eager to love and be loved that sometimes it was heartbreaking. It would have been embarrassing if he didn't love him so much. He kissed him slowly, leisurely, hotly, his desperation temporarily sated and his need quelled. His kiss tasted like sweat and semen now, and he melted into it.

"I love you, too," he sighed back. "So much."

"Fucking hell, we're a couple of saps, aren't we?" He asked rhetorically.

"Completely," he said with a loopy grin, drunk on his orgasms and being head-over-heels in love.

Eye Patch nuzzled his neck affectionately and reached down to tenderly pull his shorts and pants back up, giving his crotch one last soft pat before zipping his jeans and fastening the button.

"We should probably... you know, finish up," he suggested, taking the folder from the desk. "The work, I mean," he added with a cheeky grin.

"Yeah," Connor agreed. He kissed him one last time, quick and warm, before he backed up and let him get off of the desk. He cast a glance at Eye Patch's jeans, a pair of really tight-fitting skinny jeans with a hugely pronounced bulge in the front. He rubbed him slowly and deliberately, giving him a smirk. "When we're done, I'll return the favour."

"Good," he rasped, thrusting his hips into his hand.

They locked Lester's office back up and made their way back to the computer hand-in-hand like a pair of teenagers in love for the first time. Abby had taken over the computer chair, smiling secretively at them as they approached. That 'cat who got the canary' look made them glance at one another and then back at her, immediately suspicious.

"You guys know what?" She asked. She didn't even wait for them to so much as shake their heads before the answered, "Turns out there really _is_ a camera in Lester's office. It's not connected to the main security feed, though. It's privately owned, Lester looks in on it at night when we're not here."

Two sets of eyes went huge and wide and Connor's mouth popped open ever so slightly. _Busted!_ Absolutely, totally busted.

"Oh shit," Eye Patch whimpered piteously, ducking his head and turning a remarkable shade of purple. "Fucking hell. Shit. _Fuck!"_

"Yeah, I know," Abby said, an obvious double-meaning in her words. She grinned when they both turned funny colours. "Lester phoned me and told me to tell you guys to stop fucking each other on his desk or he'd make you pay for a new one. I have to say, though—the show was good fun."

They were still flushing with total embarrassment and it was then that they noticed her jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped, her bright pink mesh knickers slightly pulled down in the front and a wet spot evident in the gusset. Whether Lester showed her the footage himself—perhaps to prove to her that they were doing what he said they were doing—or whether she found how to get a look at it herself, they didn't know. Either way she'd clearly liked what she saw and they both groaned quietly, imagining her sitting there with her nimble little fingers sliding in and out, fucking herself, getting off on thoughts of the two of them together.

"We should—we should definitely finish up here," Connor said after swallowing several times and regaining his voice.

"No arguments from me," she said cheerfully, vacating the computer chair. She leaned up to kiss them both, Connor first and then Eye Patch. He ground his hips into hers and thrust his tongue into her mouth, making her mewl excitedly as she tasted Connor's spendings in his mouth. That never got old, knowing that her Connors got off on _each other_ just as much as she got off on them and they on her.

"Let's finish up," Connor suggested again, his voice rasping sexily this time.

"Then we can go home and finish with _you,"_ Abby said. "And me."

Neither of the Connors could remember a time when they'd worked faster. A little incentive was all they needed, really.


	2. Nature

I wrote this for Evenstar Estel, who was feeling a little seasonal-affective now that summer's over. I said I'd write her a little summertime!outdoorsy!threesome!porn to help her feel better. I hope you enjoy the story! It takes place sometime after her fic 'Three Hearts', after the threesome has been together for a year. Just a shameless, plotless bit of porn. (Well, why not?)

Disclaimer: I do not own Primeval or any of the characters or themes therein. Nor do I own Eye Patch!Connor, who was originally created in Evenstar Estel's fic 'Cloudy With a Chance of Connors'.

o...o

The cable was out. Some idiot had done some digging around in the grass and empty ground surrounding the apartment building and severed several lines, including telephone and cable lines. Quite a few people in the complex were without telephone and internet service. The Connors were particularly _pissed off_ about it because it kept them out of their 'Halo' group online; not only that, but they couldn't even catch up on work for the Arc, since they couldn't remotely access their work files. Abby was annoyed, too. She couldn't watch TV, though they still had electricity and she could watch movies, and she couldn't go online. They'd been promised that the problem would be fixed within 24 hours.

That was two days ago.

The three of them were getting a little bit antsy. There was little to do with the Arc these days, now that the Connors had things under control and anomalies could be for the most part predicted and locked before they became a problem. They weren't used to being at such a loose end. The obvious solution to their boredom was to remain horizontal until the problem was resolved, but now that no one had their computers or televisions to distract them from the very vocal sounds of the threesome occurring in the Temple's flat, they were getting complaints more often than usual.

The third day dawned sunny and the weather report Abby managed to catch on the radio said that it would be warm and mild, and after a lovely London springtime during which it rained almost nonstop it was welcome news. She had cabin fever in the worst way. She dug around in the loft until she found a picnic hamper and a couple of nice big old striped blanket.

"Boys, get up," she ordered, coming back into the bedroom and giving them both gentle swats on their bare butts to wake them.

"Nnn... still tired," Eye Patch whinged, snuggling back up to Connor.

"Me too," he sighed.

The younger Connor wasn't really much of an outdoorsy type, but Eye Patch was—he'd lived for so many years in his horrible world, and he'd grown to appreciate the nature that was all but extinct there. Spending an afternoon getting lost somewhere woodsy with his lovers definitely piqued his interest.

"A _picnic?"_ Connor asked, screwing up his face as if the suggestion disgusted him.

"Why not?" Abby asked. "We could all do with a day out, and I've got cabin fever."

"But why a _picnic?"_

"Don't be a spoilsport," Eye Patch drawled, rumpling his already-disarranged hair. "It'll be fun. And get you to stop having a bitchy fit about not getting to play Halo."

"I have hay fever—and so do _you!"_ He pointed out.

"I guess I do, but it hasn't bothered me in years. Come on, let's make some sandwiches and load you up with antihistamines and have a nice afternoon _not_ being bored."

"I don't know..."

"Come _on,"_ he purred. He came up close behind Connor and nuzzled his neck, rubbing his shoulder with one hand and circling his waist with the other. He came up close and planted soft little butterfly kisses up the side of his neck. When he reached his ear, he lipped his earlobe and licked a long, slow, wet lick to the soft spot under his ear.

"Ohh..."

"Still think it's a bad idea?" The other Connor asked. It was undoubtedly playing dirty, but he knew what it took to get him to do what he wanted.

"I, uhm..."

He lipped Connor's neck again and flicked over the pulse point with his tongue. "You, me, Abby. Somewhere nice and quiet and secluded. All alone, all afternoon." He breathed hotly in his ear, letting himself get a bit caught up in his own fantasies about being alone with the two of them in the forest where they could be as loud as they liked. The addition of a little cider and maybe some ice cream toppings would make things more interesting.

Connor groaned softly and twisted his head around to kiss his temple, and Eye Patch suspected they were having some of the same thoughts; it happened sometimes.

They shooed Abby from the kitchen to stop her trying to make sandwiches, since they wanted something _edible_ for the day. Instead she cut up some apples and oranges and arranged all of the food and drinks and everything in the picnic hamper with some ice-packs to keep it cool. They said goodbye to Eva, who was getting her sulk on at being left home alone—a day out in the country somewhere would be great for her, too, but the last thing they wanted was a delectable country tryst to be ruined by the dog. It was bad enough that the animals made a habit of watching them when they were at _home_ and had sex anywhere but the locked bedroom.

They picked a road at random and Abby drove it for miles and miles, until the buildings thinned out and the city faded into the distance behind them. They ended up in farm country in god-knew-where, surrounded by little squat houses and big fields. There were walkers out and about with their hiking sticks and massive knapsacks. The three of them knew better than to use any of the well-travelled walking trails—they wanted _privacy_ here.

Eventually they left the car and continued on foot. They took their hamper well off the beaten path and through to a little clearing in the woods. It was grassy and soft and blue-green light filtered down through the canopy and left dappled sunlight on the grass.

"Looks like something right out of Tolkien, doesn't it?" Eye Patch asked no one in particular. He looked a little misty-eyed, the way he looked when he rediscovered something long forgotten. There was so much of the old Connor left in him when he got that boyish excitement—the old Connor that quietly blackmailed himself into her flat and awkwardly suggested they 'huddle together for warmth' when they snuck away on an anomaly search by themselves. "It's like a little bit of Hobbiton."

Connor laughed softly and looped an arm around his shoulders, kissing his neck and shoulder. "You're such a nerd," he teased softly.

"Look who's talking, fanboy." His voice was low and growly, but his expression was all mirth as he turned around and kissed him properly. They leaned heavily into one another, melting into the kiss with their arms wrapped around each other and their eyes sliding closed. One of them—Abby couldn't tell which—made a little mewling sound and she couldn't help but giggle. They were painfully sweet together, and it gave her a serious case of the warm fuzzies that they loved each _other_ just as much as they loved her. Indeed, there was a deep, intimate connection that the two of them shared that she knew she could never hope to equal. As much as they didn't like being referred to as such—they said it made the relationship sound even stranger than it already was—the bond the two Connors shared was one very much like twins.

Just... twins who happened to be attracted to one another and have sex with each other and shared the same woman.

Yeah, the Connors were right, that _was_ pretty weird.

They put out the blanket, the boys picking a big sunny spot in the small clearing because they knew that Abby would quite happily sit and sun herself like a lizard—there was a remarkable temperature difference between the shade and sun in the forest—and they dug into the food they brought. They hadn't bothered with cups and instead passed around jugs of cider and a thermos of water and drank straight out of them.

They ate and talked and laughed well into the afternoon; the longer they were there, and the more cider they consumed, the more warmly relaxed and giggly they became. They knew the older Connor was getting a bit merry when his eye patch came off, followed by all of his clothes from the waist up. For all that he put up a mask of aloof indifference, the two of them knew him better than to fall for it. He was an incredibly self-conscious and insecure man, worried about what the world might think of the scars he carried—both those that could be seen and those that weren't physical. They knew he felt truly comfortable around someone when he felt all right being without his patch and wearing short sleeves so some of his more prominent arm- and hand-scars could be seen. That he'd just taken his shirt off was a sign that he felt they were quite comfortably alone where they were. His pink cheeks were a sign he was definitely a little tipsy.

They turned off their phones and lost track of time and it was wonderful. Abby got a cute little red squirrel to come up to their blanket and take a piece of an apple right out of her hand.

"Look at you," Connor murmured, leaning over his counterpart and draping his torso over his. "And you get cross with us when we let the dog have leftovers."

"That's 'cos the dog _lives_ with us. If we ever see that squirrel again I'm filing a restraining order with the police."

Eye Patch snorted and laughed, then leaned back and sighed. His sigh became a yawn, which turned into a chain reaction between the three of them. With their bellies full of food and cider, they were all more than a little dozy and there was a certain clichéd romantic appeal in napping together in the woods. Abby giggled and slid up close to him, sharing the sunny patch on the blanket and nuzzling his cheek; Connor shifted so he could make room for her, and so he could reach up and kiss the other man's neck.

"Naptime, I s'pose," Eye Patch said, snuggling up close and getting quite comfortable.

"I'm gonna be itching like mad later," Connor grumbled, though his husky low tone was more from tiredness than from any actual annoyance.

"Just shush, you. It's romantic. Enjoy it."

"Mmkay, if you insist."

Eye Patch placed slow kisses on their heads, going back and forth between them and each time letting his lips linger against their hair a little longer. He stroked Connor's hair with one hand and lazily dragged his nails up and down Abby's back with the other, petting them like they were cats.

Together in quiet peace, they dozed for some time, warmed by the sun and by one another. They lost track of time, but the clearing was warm and quiet and their bellies were full and they were quite content to stay as they were. Connor reached across Eye Patch's bare torso to twirl her hair in his fingers—she grew it longer because the other Connor had mentioned how much he'd liked his first Abby with long hair, and both Connors liked running their fingers through it. And pulling it in bed. And Abby liked how she looked with longer hair. If she wanted something from her boys, all she had to do was put her hair into pigtails and bite her lower lip and they were totally at her mercy. She sighed and let her eyes slip closed again. She felt both of the Connors shift and heard the gentle smack of lips on lips.

"Love you," Connor murmured.

She felt the other Connor's reply more than she heard it, a low rumble in his chest. "Love you, too."

She opened her eyes to the sight of Connor hovering over his counterpart, their lips locked in a deep, hot kiss. She could watch them forever, she decided. This would _never_ get old.

Abby plucked a little leafy fern frond near the blanket and flicked it ticklishly over Eye Patch's bare stomach and bare chest. She watched him tense and un-tense his muscles as she teased him, twitching like a horse bothered by flies.

It went from being cute to being erotic when she realized Connor had stopped kissing him and was _glued_ to her actions. She flicked the fern over his right nipple, the one with the claw-mark scar that went straight through it, making it harden almost immediately. She replaced the little frond with her mouth, tracing slow, warm kisses along the scar from where it began over his sternum to his shoulder where it ended. She went back and wetly licked the nipple, then blew cool air over it. He groaned, and the younger Connor echoed it with one of his own. She fondled him with one hand, tweaking and licking his nipple, and going back to teasing him with that fern frond, going lower and lower on his abdomen. Three sets of eyes watched the delicate green leaves follow the little treasure-trail of dark hair under his navel to the waistband of his low-slung black jeans.

She paused her actions to lock eyes with her one-eyed lover, and he looked back at her hopefully, expectantly; her gaze flickered over to Connor, who seemed to get the cue and took over, starting from the four long scars on his shoulder, the claw-marks from their lover's time trapped in the earth's distant and frozen past.

Connor kissed the man's neck and kept kissing down to the ball of his shoulder. He went deliberately slowly from there, little slow pecks to the other nipple. He flattened his tongue and licked it; he circled the other with his fingers and his breath hitched and he moaned loudly. Abby idly traced a finger back and forth along the waist of those deliciously snug jeans as she watched. There was already a bulge in those jeans—good.

Eye Patch's practice was to ignore his own arousal and his own need in favour of his lover's. He was dextrous and attentive and _very_ thorough, but they didn't like that he was so willing to dismiss his own sexual needs. After all, _giving_ was just as good as _receiving _and they were quite determined that this time _he_ was going to be reduced to a moaning puddle of sexual satisfaction.

She dipped her fingers down into the waist of his jeans, enough so he knew what she wanted to do but not far enough that she touched him. When she did it again and trailed her fingers into the wiry thatch of hair, he whimpered and squirmed.

"Wanna touch..." he whined, trying to sit up. Connor held him down with a hand on his chest and kissed him softly.

"Us first," he insisted.

He whined again and wriggled on the blanket, reaching for Connor and trying to get a hand into his jeans.

"Ah-ah," he scolded gently, pulling away. His lover made a disappointed yelping noise and frowned, and Connor found his attempt at sulking _even cuter_ and he couldn't resist kissing that sulk right off of him. "Oh, don't go all huffy on us. You must be the only man who's disappointed that he's about to be the centre of attention."

Eye Patch arched up and kissed him softly. "Just how I am, love. I just like pleasing you." He reached down and rubbed the inside of his thigh, his hand inching further up until he caressed his clothed groin. Even through the denim and his boxers, his touch made him tremble excitedly—he could still vividly remember their tryst in Lester's office, during which he actually came in his pants just from the attention of his lover's hands.

Abby couldn't help but pause her ministrations to watch the Connors as they kissed fervently. It would always be sexy and delicious and beautiful, watching them together. _They_ were sexy and delicious and beautiful. She saw their tongues tangle and watched their hands on one another—Eye Patch's on Connor's thigh, Connor's making figure-eights all the way down his belly to his jeans—and pulled her skirt up, just _aching_ to be touched. She stopped herself—her boys would be more than happy to help her there. But first...

"I can do that _for_ you, you know," she heard Eye Patch purr. His voice was husky, raspy, the way they both sounded when they were ridiculously turned on. He was sitting up now, still with a handful of Connor-bulge in one hand and reaching with the other to slide into her shirt and tweak her nipple sharply. She yelped.

"I'll hold you to that promise," she said, regaining her self-control and sitting back. "But later."

He reached for her again, putting on his best Kicked Puppy Face. "But I want—"

Connor bit his ear and sucked hard on his neck, leaving a red mark. "Plenty of time for that. Now behave or I'll hold you down."

He grinned lasciviously and gave a delicious little shudder.

"Oh, you like that idea, do you?" Abby purred, slowly unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down. He wasn't wearing underwear—rarely did—and at her filthy insinuation his already hard cock twitched.

He moaned and nodded.

"_Really?"_ Connor picked up, tickling his lover's belly and delighting in his ticklish cry and aroused groan. He nuzzled his ear and breathily teased, "You _really_ like that idea, don't you? Held down, helpless. Me and Abby doing our worst to you."

"_God_ yes."

Connor grinned and open-mouth kissed his neck, his skin tangy with sweat. He was pleased to have discovered this particular part of his husband's fantasies. They were constantly discovering things about one another, even between the two Connors—as alike as they were, they were still very much individuals. The idea of tying the other Connor down and doing whatever they liked with him was novel—and arousing—precisely because he wasn't the type to simply sit passively and let them pleasure him. But tying him down so he'd have no choice but to _feel..._

But there'd be time for that some other time. Right now there was _quite_ a show unfolding before him.

Connor's legs were splayed open and his jeans were down around his thighs and Abby was between his knees, greedily sucking him off. She bobbed her head and then gripped him around the base of his cock, slowly sliding off him until just her lips touched him; she pushed the foreskin back and ran her tongue over the head, making him cry out far louder than he would have dared to do in the flat.

Under her mouth and hands, he arched his back and groaned. He rested one hand in her hair and fisted the other in the blanket beneath him. He panted heavily, and kept his good eye on her, the watching—seeing her mouth sliding wetly up and down his penis and leaving a slick trail on the delicate skin—compounding his excitement.

Abby sat back and slowly licked the droplets of white off her shiny lips. He moaned again, louder this time, and jerked his hips into her hand. She kept her hand tight around his cock and pressed down on his belly with the other hand, silently ordering him to lie still. Her gaze shifted, looking at the other Connor. He was watching them both with hungry eyes, rubbing the bulge in his jeans.

She smiled slyly and jerked her head, silently telling him to come join her, which Connor did in a heartbeat, sprawling next to the other man on the blanket and taking turns with Abby, licking and suckling and making his vocal pleasure grow even louder. They took it in turn to tease him, bringing him close to orgasm and then stopping abruptly and forcing him back onto a plateau before the other took over.

Eye Patch gave a loud, ragged cry as he came, jerking his hips erratically until he stopped and his cock softened. Connor was the one who caught his release, swallowing it down greedily and keeping eye contact with Abby the whole time. She leaned in to kiss him, tasting semen on his lips and tongue and moaning against his mouth.

He sat up shakily, resting his head against Connor's shoulder and blindly reaching around to touch Abby wherever he could. When he made a little whimpering noise, the little sound he and Connor both made when they found themselves slightly overwhelmed, all three of them laughed. They shared deep, sloppy, wet kisses and patiently waited for Eye Patch to recover. Both men had incredibly quick recovery times, something that all three of them enjoyed.

Two sets of hands caressed her legs, trailing up over her tall socks to her bare thighs and pushing the ragged denim skirt up and bunching it around her waist. She thought briefly to resist at first, wanting to have a little more fun with her boys, but their fingers were pressing into her thighs and going to the lace trim of her knickers and she couldn't think of a reason to stop them.

They went for her neck, kissing her throat and licking up to her ears and making her come out in shivers. It felt so good and disarming and she leaned back into Connor and wriggled against their roaming hands. Eye Patch cupped her clothed sex and rubbed her wet cleft through the gauzy fabric, grinning and playfully nipping her ear.

"You're wet," he purred. He rubbed her a little harder and she gasped.

"What're you gonna do about it?" She'd intended to make it sound light, but her anxiousness and need seeped into her voice. They wouldn't leave her wanting, but that didn't mean they wouldn't tease her mercilessly first. Turnabout was fair play, after all.

"The imagination reels in a number of possible directions," Connor said.

She was going to make some kind of sharp retort, but the words died in her throat before she could voice them. They worked together and fast, her t-shirt pulled up over her head and her bra pushed down, her skirt pulled up, her knickers dragged down her legs—if they ripped _another_ pair of her knickers, she thought, she was going to make them go out and get her new underwear. Their humiliation would be worth it. But then again, they'd probably come back with a lot of crotchless panties, so perhaps it wasn't—

"Oh!"

Callused hands tenderly caressed her breasts, thumbs rubbing over the nipples until they peaked. Eye Patch kissed her, deeply and slowly, thick and syrupy sweet, until she mewled into the kiss and demanded he go faster. He laughed softly and she felt him smile against her lips.

Behind her, Connor shifted. The two of them shared a look and did that irritating conversation-without-words thing again and before she knew it she was pushed forward, on her knees with her upper body in the other Connor's lap—he'd pulled his jeans back up; pity—and her knees spread to brace herself. Connor's hands gently smoothed over her back, up to her round buttocks and over her thighs. His fingers fluttered on the inside of her thighs, close to her wet, throbbing mound but not touching her. She squirmed in anticipation, wriggling and pushing herself back into his hands, but it wasn't until she gave a frustrated little cry that he finally touched her. He gently massaged her folds, wetting his fingers with her arousal and playing with her swollen clit while her breathing turned to shallow panting and then to kittenish little sounds of wordless pleasure.

Then he stopped, far too soon as far as she was concerned, and she turned to try and glare threateningly at him but couldn't see more than his legs, on his knees behind her. Then his jeans were down, puddle around his knees, and he took hold of her hips. She felt him nudge her entrance, the tip of his broad head just barely inside, rubbing het wet slit; his hands rubbed over her arse, playing one thumb against the cleft, teasing her. She'd come prepared for a sexual romp and brought lube and condoms—they could both take her, fill her, and she could scream as loudly as she liked here without getting any of them into trouble.

But Connor had other plans and slid inside her, agonizingly slowly, making her feel every inch until he was buried to the hilt, his hips flush against hers. He kept still, but his hips gave a sharp jerk, making Abby moan loudly into the other Connor's lap; he casually unfastened her bra, then reached down to fondle her breasts. When he stopped, she realized that Connor was still unmoving behind her, just gripping her hips and waiting—but what for?

"Abby," he leaned forward and breathed in her ear. She whimpered in response. "Sit up."

She turned her head to look up at him, ready to demand to know what the two of them had up their sleeves, but he gave her one of his most adorable smiles—earnest and sweet and dimpled and so goddamn enchanting that she was helpless to do anything except what he said. She struggled to get upright, straddling his lap with her back against his chest. The change of position altered the angle at which he penetrated her, and when he shifted his hips she saw stars, gasping raggedly.

A little more maneuvering—Connor threaded one of his arms through both of hers behind her back, holding her effectively steady and immobile, since she'd tumble forward if she tried to pull her arms away. His other hand grabbed her thigh and held her open. She strained slightly, her muscles ever so slightly overstressed but the pleasure overriding the pain.

Connor sucked hard on her pulse point, then left kisses up and down her neck to her shoulder. He rocked his hips slowly into hers and she cried out. From her position, being held back and open, she couldn't move or take charge of their rhythm and so she had to leave it to Connor. This position was entirely novel to him, too, but after a few moments he found a rocking motion that satisfied them both, as evidenced by their vocal pleasure.

Eye Patch sat before them, watching them both hungrily and reaching into his jeans to squeeze his newly hardening cock. He wasn't going to fit in those jeans for much longer—that much she was sure of. She _ached_ to touch him, wanted to reach down and join her hands with his around him, bring him off with her hands and her mouth while Connor watched and fucked her from behind. She mewled, instantly even further aroused.

His good eye flickered over her shoulder, and she knew he was looking at Connor. Whatever they were coming up with, she knew she was going to like it judging by the wicked smile on Eye Patch's face and the predatory way he licked his lips. He leaned forward and kissed her—she was expecting one of his rough kisses, the ones that left her breathless, but instead it was sweet and strangely chaste. He trailed little kisses and flicks of his tongue down to her chest, lavishing the attention of his mouth and tongue on her breasts. He bit sharply and tugged her nipples with his teeth, adding a sharp jolt of painful pleasure, and then soothing immediately with his soft tongue. Then he went even lower and Abby knew immediately what he was going to do.

She watched as he got down on his belly and looked up the line of her body, his expression rapacious, before he flattened his tongue and began licking eagerly at her and Connor where they were joined. She heard him moan in her ear and tense behind her, and she echoed him with a soft little mewl of her own. He was voracious, lapping the swollen bud of her clit with the flat of his tongue and suckling it gently, heightening her pleasure immeasurably. When he nipped her—actually _bit her,_ teeth closing gently on the sensitive little nub—her whole body tensed and seized as she came with a shriek that echoed in the trees.

Connor stilled, no longer rocking into her but content to simply let their third lave them with his tongue and feel the ripple of muscle as Abby's body clamped around him again with her second orgasm, even more intense than the first. She trembled, now rocking her own pelvis back and forth against his cock and Eye Patch's tongue, desperate for more movement on her already over-stimulated body. He obliged her, the mix of pleasures dizzying and overwhelming. He wasn't going to last very much longer.

Her third orgasm brought about his, wringing so much pleasure from his body that he nearly toppled over. It carried on and on, Abby's cries mingling with his. He let her go and threw his hands out behind him to steady himself, suddenly feeling their combined weight much more than he had before.

It took several minutes for the three of them to disengage; Abby and Connor felt heavy and shaky and utterly spent. She slipped off of his lap and onto her back on the blanket, her inner muscles clenching around the sudden emptiness. The other Connor, too, had that loopy, punch-drunk look on his face, and when he sat up they saw the shiny, slick whiteness on his hand and staining his black jeans.

Connor took his hand and tenderly kissed it clean, then cupped the back of his neck and kissed him lazily. Abby watched them giddily through half-lidded eyes. Their fiery passion was sated, at least for the time being, replaced by giddy, blissed-out love.

They cuddled up close on the blanket, a tangle of arms and legs, and fell into quiet, peaceful slumber.

After that, it became their practice, at least once or twice a summer, to put away their computers and their work and pack a basket of food and comfy blankets and drive out into the country. It reminded them just how lucky they were to have one another, and that sometimes it would do to remember that—getting lost somewhere in the wilds, and in each other.


End file.
